I can’t get over how detached I am with this cycle.
Wait. Cycle? What cycle?
See, that is how detached I am. I still have not updated you on my CD3 ultrasound on Friday. I even got some astounding news and what did I do? Drove home listening to NPR and stopped at CVS for lotion. That was it.
Wandie revealed that I had ovulated at some point in the recent past. That’s right. Ovulated. Stop the presses. No one has ever been able to confirm an ovulation with me, so I just assumed my ovaries were forever broken. Seems like my low-carb/gluten-free/fun-free diet is doing something.
Unfortunately the Professor and I had sex exactly ZERO times last month. Pathetic, I know. I also had zero lining and a really absent period meaning even had we had sex and said egg fertilized it would have had no where to go.
My blood work showed the my estrogen was higher than expected so they adjusted my protocol and started me on three Vivelle patches, which I put on that (Friday) night without cleaning my belly so in the morning they were all falling off. I showered, swabbed with alcohol and then put three more on. Then proceeded to FREAK OUT because what if it is too much estrogen and I get a blood clot??? (I am aware this is stupid) So I peeled one off and just wore two. I’ll change them out for a fresh three tonight according to the protocol.
Despite not following instructions at all, I’m not the least bit worried about this cycle. My nose is producing tons of mucus and my lady bits… omg, let’s just say if I could blow them like my nose I would. Scary. And if for some reason my patch blunder cancels the cycle that is just fine.
Mr. Husband and I still are not talking about this cycle. We still are not thinking about the possibility that it might work, or might fail, or might result in another miscarriage. I went to my infertility support group yesterday and just felt like it was any other day.
Also, the hair loss continues from, I’m assuming, the miscarriage and all the hormonal craziness. Between that and all the breakage from bleaching it was looking really bad so I chopped it off this weekend and dyed it back it’s normal color. I now look like my brother, which is alarming. Maybe looking like a dude means I’ll be taken more seriously in the workplace? Nope. As soon as I walked off the elevator Coworker No. 2 said “Wow. What happened to you?!” I responded by snapping, “Gee, that was pretty rude. I had to cut if off because I am losing so much.”
If one more person makes a rude-ass comment I’ll expound upon my response and tell them it is falling out because of the dead baby. Assholes.